


In-Depth

by yukikun13



Series: Andrew Leibel - NWM [4]
Category: New World Magischola (Live-Action Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mistakes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-08-28 22:10:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8464858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukikun13/pseuds/yukikun13
Summary: More in-depth looks at some of the experiences that Andrew had. More angst about his bad decisions. More description and less silly interjection from Andrew.





	1. Bear or Bird

Andrew could have been a bear...  
He thinks about that decision two years ago often. He still remembers how the piece of parchment felt against his hand. How his fingers twirled his pen nervously. He never liked using quills and always opted for the mundane pen. He liked the old, the unused, the unwanted, and it was part of his Artificiery as well as his whole state of being. His birthplace had practically been born _into_ his body. .  
He remembers looking at the words “first choice” and how they seemed to pull at him. The letters were tattered and faded even though they had been placed onto the parchment with magic, easily accessible as they were print-able. Dan Obeah, the wise, or Maison DuBois, the loyal. They were easily attributes that described him. Easily he could be pulled into either one. .  
He doesn’t remember what he put. Maybe he left it blank. Maybe he put both. Either way, when he was sorted, he didn’t look back..  
But he always thinks about it.

When he feels, he feels with his entire being. He gets angry from head to toe. He feels love through each nerve in his fingers. His pride and joy from his house and his friends is just as easy for him to feel as it is for others to see through his smile.  
When he is sad and hurt, he feels knives cut through his skin and soul.  
It’s how he feels when Jayden is outed at lunch.  
It’s how he feels when he hesitated to say anything to defend them.  
It’s how he feels when Jayden is kidnapped.  
It’s how he feels remembering crying, wanting to do anything to save them, while they were lying there in front of him, writhing and snarling.  
It’s how he feels remembering he _could_ have sacrificed himself, but didn’t.

He feels a sense of loss after that. He loses his purpose, his drive. His house has been his family for the past two years. He has loved every bird that has come into his life. He has grown close to them, not as close as he has to some DuBois members, but close. They are his family. He always says he would do anything for them. But in the moments that they count, he isn’t so sure that he will. 

When he finds Adrianna, after saving Jayden, he cries. He sheds hard tears. The slices in his skin erupt and let his soul pour out and down his tattered body. He bleeds from where he fell, but cries from every part of his being. He is covered in too much pain from not being a good enough friend to her, from not listening, and from not giving her what she needed or wanted. As much as he would give it to her now, he’s not sure she would accept it, or ever think it was more than a consolation prize. He doesn’t make the right decisions in the moment and is bothered by the retrospect.  
She holds him as he cries and he is flooded with relief and happiness and sadness. She doesn’t cry with him, but her emotions pour with his.

When he finds Azra, he doesn’t cry. He is stoic, cold, detached. He is too in his head, thinking too much. Her calm words are reaching his ears but not quite into his head. He doesn’t see the glass half-full. He’s too busy seeing his lies that have filled his body from the beginning. He holds her hand as they walk to dinner. He holds her hand when he picks her up for the formal. He walks with his other hand clenched firmly around his wand. 

“‘Together we’re strong,’ right?” he asks her.  
He doesn’t think she can ever understand what he means when he says those words. He’s also not sure what he’s looking for when he says them.  
Loyal or wise.  
He’s not sure what he could be anymore. 


	2. Unable to Heal

He called her a slut.

Well, not really. He said she _looked_ like a slut. It wasn’t even a good insult. He was mad. She said that he looked awful, and rather than try to brush off Aveline’s typical asshole behavior, Andrew threw the words right back in her face. He never used words like that, not to someone who didn’t really deserve it. Not in front of Margeary. Not in front of the few other people who were sitting at the table when he got up to leave and sit by himself.

He picked at dry toast with his fingers. The bread was undercooked even though it had taken nearly ten minutes to get it to that point. Butter and jam had no effect on it and merely left it a cold, half-crunchy, half-soft square on his plate next to the dry one that he was scratching at. He went back for cereal and chewed three bites before he let the spoon drown in the milk.

He stared at his hands. They were coated in dirt. He had fallen while he was running to get to The Pearl as fast as he could from the center of campus. He had helped carry Jayden to the Amphitheatre. He had searched for their wand back on The Pearl once Jayden had woken up. He had walked back to campus to eat and, now, was finally getting to look at the dirt that caked his fingerprints. He knew from the stinging of his left knee that he had been bleeding, too, from when he had fallen. Azra would fix him. Or Jos. He had no lack of healers on-hand that would willingly patch him up if he asked. 

But he wouldn’t be able to heal that moment back with Aveline. He wouldn’t be able to take back the words that he said to her out of anger, no matter how out of his character they were, or how much he regretted them.

He would never be able to heal the anger that coursed through his entire body back on The Pearl. Once they had gotten through the magical wards, he had looked at Jayden’s kidnapper, Blair, with enough anger that could kill. He _could_ have killed. 

He called Aveline a slut. He thought he could kill someone. 

Who was he turning into? 

He buried his head in his hands, breathing in the smell of dirt, and felt himself slip into his thoughts like the spoon in his bowl.


	3. A+A

Andrew thought that his feelings were through. He thought that everything was over with and that he wouldn’t think about Azra Bloom ever again. He thought that Adrianna was the only one on his mind. 

But Azra at the conference, complimenting Andrew’s devices?

Andrew never stopped thinking about her. 

That’s why, when he heard about the Revenant, he went looking for her. He had avoided her skillfully all day. But that changed when he walked into the DuBois common room and felt the chilly air that surrounded everyone. Students that were half-soaked from the influence of elemental magic were crouched around her. She was wrapped in a white blanket. It made her look like a polar bear. It was a warm thought as he strayed in the doorway and pondered, for a second, about whether or not he could actually go to her. 

Andrew never stopped caring for her. 

The entire room was filled with only whispers. Talking in a high volume seemed like a bad idea. As did this. Walking towards Azra. Her hair was wrapped around her shoulder in a thin ponytail. She looked like a revered elder the way that her housemates were crouched around and in front of her. 

His hand brushed against her shoulder.

“Hey.”

She looked at him, and her eyes were soft and tentative. 

“Hey.” 

She was soft and tentative. But Andrew couldn’t stop there. He couldn’t leave her alone now.

Andrew crouched in front of her. The rest of the house seemed to disappear. “You okay?”

She shrugged. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

She shrugged again.

Andrew held his breath and slowly reached for her hand. Her skin was soft against his fingers, just as it had been before, last semester. It still made his stomach squirm with glee. “If you want to, I’m here, okay…?” He asked. 

And she smiled. 


	4. My Truth

Andrew had been sitting there, casually sending glances over to Azra, for the past three minutes. Coakley had made their table split up, and Andrew took the fall, mainly since no one else would. Azra had looked at him… And if he _hadn’t_ broken inside from the way her eyes looked at him, he wasn’t sure if he was as whole as he thought he had been. 

He found an opening when he saw their potion, a reason to go see her. 

He swaggered easily over to her even though the pounding in his heart thundered loudly in his ears. He was nervous. Oh _god_ was he nervous. “Hey,” he said. At least his voice didn’t betray him.

“Hey,” she said back. She was warmer than she had been the other night, for obvious reasons. It made Andrew’s smile more genuine. “How are you?” she asked him, her smile now starting to grow. 

“Good… You?” 

She shrugged. “I’m okay.” She paused. “I’m sad we didn’t get to work together.” 

Did anyone else hear Andrew’s heart stop?

“Well… Maybe we’ll work together another time…” he said, using the opportunity to scoop up their group’s potion in his left hand and bring it up to what little light was available. “What did you guys _do_?” he asked, incredulously. 

“We made a truth serum!” She was too chipper about it, and Andrew laughed. 

“So did we, so why is yours black?!”

“I dunno. Wanna try it?” The devilish glint in her eye gave Andrew all the information he needed.

“As a matter of fact,” he said, putting down the bottle, feeling sure of himself, “I already took some.” 

“You did?!” 

“Yup.”

There was her classic grin. “Are you happy to be back at school?” 

“Of course I am.”

“What’s your favorite class?” 

“Uh, you know what… Ethics, actually. Artificiery is awesome, but I’m really loving Ethics.”

“Do you still like me?”

“Yes.”

Andrew’s heart stopped again. This time it was compiled with blood draining completely out of his face, his eyes going completely wide, and his mouth dropping open. Luckily, even Azra seemed to be caught off-guard too. 

“Wait, you do?”

Andrew looked behind him. His bag was on his chair, his wand on his table. He could scoop them both up in one movement. “Um, yeah…” he muttered, the effects of the truth serum still meaning _any_ answer he said was going to be truthful, even if he didn’t want it to be. “I’m gonna go,” he said, and quickly grabbed his things and rushed out. 

‘ _Stupid, stupid, **stupid**_ ,’ he scolded himself down the hall as he tried to shove his notebook back in his bag and clear the area before all the classes let out. ‘ _You just **had** to say something, didn’t you? You couldn’t just let your feelings be. Oh no! You had to just **lay it out there** for her to hear and acknowledge, even though she doesn’t want to be with you and she’ll never come after you--’_

“Andrew, wait!”

Andrew’s whole body stopped. Ten more steps would have gotten him into the main building and, thus, out of sight. But he hadn’t made it. And instead, he turned, knowing his fate was sealed now. He saw her, her face now holding onto a small pout and upturned eyebrows that looked just as sad as she had been the other night… 

“I didn’t mean to…” she started.

“I know.”

“I just, I thought it would be funny, but I didn’t think you’d actually--”

“I know, it’s okay, really,” Andrew continued, and Azra silenced herself. “I mean… I would have told you the same thing even if I _wasn’t_ on truth serum, okay… So... “ Azra was still quiet, and Andrew rocked nervously on his heels. “I don’t regret saying it.”

“You don’t?”

“No, I--” The classroom doors opened. Students started piling out. Andrew turned, saw Margeary’s glance with a questioning look on her face, and suddenly Andrew turned back to Azra and reached for her hand. “Come on…”

“Wait, where are we going?”

“Over here!”

“Why?!”

“Because I’d rather the whole school not hear this!” ‘ _If you’re going to break my heart a second time I’d rather not have Margeary there to listen to every vowel of my suffering.’_ It was words he would never say, but words he couldn’t help but feel. As he pulled her along, their shoes hitting the fine stonework embedded in the grass of the lawn, he stopped them in the middle of campus. Sure, they were an obvious duo that would get some attention from the masses, but at least those masses were _out_ of earshot. “I… I don’t regret what I said,” Andrew said, “And… I do like you… And you know that because I told you already, but I would have said it even if I didn’t have truth serum…”

He stopped. Azra looked some point between crushed and ecstatic. “I… I like you too, Andrew…” 

Andrew was going to need some resuscitation at this rate.

“But…?” 

“But I’m… Confused… And with everything going on, with us, with my Dad… I just… I need time to think.”

“Then take the time you need.” The words were out of his mouth before Andrew even thought to say them. She looked at him with such vulnerability, asked if he was sure, and he nodded. “I mean, I’d like an answer _eventually_ , but… I know it’s a lot to think over and…” Andrew looked at his bag, took a deep breath, and said, “Fuck it. Hold on, okay?”

He dug through his bag while Azra watched, and when he pulled out his stupid little cardboard box, he felt just as stupid. “I… Made this… And… Wanted… To…” He kept pausing between his words as he opened the box, and once he reached inside, he pulled it out. A blue corsage, made entirely of mundane objects, and he looked at Azra while she smiled at him. “I… Wanted to give it to you… If you’d go to the dance with me…” 


	5. You Set Me Free

  
That green slip of paper.  
Large, swirly, messy letters.  
Adrianna’s cryptic smile, language, and posture.  
  
Andrew knew the song she had written on that piece of paper. He knew it well enough. He was jovial about it. He knew it was a song about love.  
But when he listened to it, he realized why she had given it to him.  
‘Oh.’  
  
He sank into his perch on the bench. Students fluttered around him. Some went to class. Some, like him, were Artificiers on their free period. Andrew sat frozen.  
‘Oh.’  
When had _that_ happened? When had that… When had her feelings for him blossomed? During the ball over the summer, he had been basically ignored. Adrianna, per usual, was too busy solving the problems of everyone else. He hadn’t minded.  
But how had he been so blind?  
  
She _did_ like him, right?  
Maybe he was just misinterpreting what she meant. There was no way that Adrianna could like him back. Things like that didn’t happen. Nearly everyone wanted her. She was in high demand like Azra and Medárd were. She could very well be DuBois’ _third_ president, but also be some sort of president for every house. The demand didn’t stop with the bears.  
So why would she settle for him?  
  
And, worst off…  
Did he go after her?  
Or did he continue going after Azra again?

How did he decide between two loves that were so completely different? 


	6. Decisions

Andrew sat on his bed and stared at the wall. There were six-hundred dots in a four-by-five area of the wallpaper. He had taken the time to count them earlier, a lot earlier, maybe even an hour ago. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he sat on the bed or stopped counting dots on the walls. He didn’t know when he had clasped his hands together or leaned over his knees. All he knew that he was doing was staring. 

The truth serum had worn off a while ago and he had enjoyed the effects of it while it lasted (not that it changed his credibility either way). But the questions he had answered… It had really necessary for him to be under the effects of the serum to realize what he wanted in life. He could still hear Savia’s tone as she navigated the warm phrase of ‘bird dad’ that his housemates had been chirping all weekend.

He wanted to be a dad.  
He wanted to have a family.

Andrew broke his stare at the wall and looked down at his hands. He had spent so much of his life in isolation while he had crafted and artificed materials and inventions that had mostly failed. He spent so much time gathering mundane technology and using the resources he had, and, because of that, had ostracised _himself_ from others while they looked at his technology with discomfort. There was no room for mundane technology in magic. Often, outside the realm of Cultus Iktus, he felt like he was the only one who could understand it. 

And even with all of the dedication to his field and his study, where was he…? 

He was no closer to any sort of financial stability than he had been when he started Magischola. And it was fine, if he was in Thunderbird, since his frugality would lead him up the ranks of society. But in Destiny…? Mishipeshu? Anywhere else?

And that didn’t include his want for a family, for a partner… 

He would have to choose sooner or later, wouldn’t he? 

Andrew sat and stared at his hands. 

No amount of education could prepare him for this. 


End file.
